


Along Enemy Lines

by chai_and_coffee, Leftbrain



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff to be added in later chapters, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Journey AU, Romance, Soldier! Shiro, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, War, War AU, shallura - Freeform, shiroxallura, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-01 17:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15147749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chai_and_coffee/pseuds/chai_and_coffee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leftbrain/pseuds/Leftbrain
Summary: Takashi Shirogane. The Perfect Soldier. Obedient. Loyal. Next In command of the Galra Army. A soul of stone instead of sky.Allura Altea. Kind. Soft. Inquisitive. The last one left of her people.When a coldblooded Galra soldier finds the last of the Alteans, loyalties are questioned and sides are changed. Shiro is left wondering whether or not the values instilled in him are true, are to be trusted. He finds himself at odds, and he suspects it has to do with the woman with silvery hair.Both Allura and Shiro are spiraled down a long course, with nothing but the red string of fate to tie them close together.One thing is for certain.Their lives will never be the same.(Tags will be added/deleted as story progresses)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This a work written by Me (leftbrain) and the wonderful chai_and_coffee !!! We worked hard devleoping out the au and we hope you enjoy it! This is my first work on ao3 and my first time publishing anything for an audience so I really hope it all works out. Now enough of my nerves, enjoy!
> 
> edit: Apparantly my html commands for italicized text aren't registering? I'll add a forward slash where the flash backs begin and end

Chapter One 

The Galra Garrison was the most powerful army in the world, completely taking over and making the world into a forcefully peaceful place, after all that was what every soldier that was apart of the cause was taught to believe. Now to a simple citizen who was apart of where ever the Galra army had taken a peaceful hold, there was no problem with the soldiers, in fact they lived with no hinderance to every day lives. Some places were left untouched by the Galra or had actually made a truce with them to never be a bother and the galra wouldn’t come through and regulate that place. Others however… Didn’t agree with the Galra Army and their ways and would put up a fight with a resistance so peace would have to be forcibly ensued in violent ways. Two negatives make a positive after all… The Galra would take a city or a place, and ensure peace to reign throughout the land. 

That’s what Takashi Shirogane was told, and he believed it. He believed every single word that the Army said to be fact and why wouldn’t he? He was raised ever since he was a little kid to get ready to enlist in the army the minute he turned sixteen, even though the legal age was eighteen. But he had family in high places of the army, the highest of the places actually, with both of his parents in the higher branches of the army. With his family at the top of the pecking order, Shiro was forced to live up to the highest of standards and he did, extremely. Many described him to be the perfect one, the flawless soldier with steely eyes that calculated an enemies every move, tall broad shoulders that proved he was a stunning fighter and an aim that every officer envious. 

In the army, they were taught that they were the good ones, that they were the ones helping people, supporting it with background proof of before and after pictures of beautiful places that were previously ravaged by poverty and self destruction and now they were flourishing landscapes filled with life and happy people. That was the cause that Shiro had dedicated his life to. The cause that was spoon d=fed to him for years on end, it would’ve been selfish of him to have spent any of his younger childish years not thinking of anything else. After all, how could anyone indulge themselves when there was hatred still in the world? All it took to beat it was dedication and they drilled that into his brain. The rebels tried to call it brainwashing, but they were wrong. It was simply education and facts. Truthful facts that Shiro believed in, facts and a cause that shiro would die for. 

He had gone through multiple training programs, boot camps, information sessions, education programs that got him to where he was. He had outlasted countless other people vying for the same prize he was and this was were he was, right out on the honorable front lines fighting for the cause, taking out rebelling cities that had taken over and slaughtered the previous innocent citizens there. The rebels even had the nerve to call themselves the Alteans who lived in a massive group of cities called Altea. A whole culture of people who’s soul purpose was to violently rebel against them and it was the army’s duty to eliminate the threat to the peace. Currently, there was only one major city left of the rebellion and soon enough they would be able to remold the remains of the city into a peaceful paradise with no more unnecessary violence. 

Present time. 2018 Front lines. Morning. Four am. 

Shiro woke up automatically with the others in his bunker, rising out of bed and diligently headed into the showers, the timer on the icy water running at five minutes before it would be shut off. He turned on the water, stripped out of his dark grey sleeping uniform and stepping under the water, not even flinching or wincing at the temperature that seems to bite through his bones and into his very heart. But he was numb to it, to be numb to pain was to be numb to the rebellion, that was one of the many ways of the Galra army. The timer ticked on as Shiro washed himself quickly, using the bar soap to get at his hair and under his arms along with the rest of his body, washing away the night’s sweat until only the clean and neutral scent of the soap remained as it was washed off before he stepped out and got changed into his official uniform. His uniform today was quite heavy with armor and gear, a helmet that covered his face with the visor up, a tight fitting tank underneath a bullet proof military vest that was further covered with a black camouflage jacket that had the symbol of the galra Army stitched into the chest. The patch was even further embellished with a shiny pin that stated which rank he was and his name, complete with a second depiction of the symbol for the army. The accents of the uniform were a dark violet with a bit of a dark blue, the rest of the uniform still holding onto the dark steel grey that matched his sleeping uniform as he trekked out of the showers towards the report room. There he would report his station, his place, his rank and the galra motto each day. Before he went out onto the front lines. The purpose? To never forget where his loyalty lies, always with the galra. 

He traveled down the dimly lit hallways of the crudely built walls, making two right turns and a left turn before he came into the room where he would give his daily information. The room was decorated much like any other room in the army camp, with the same color combinations as his uniform with the only other thing being a logging station where he scanned his handprint by placing his hand on the cool metal reader and his iris by leaning over and staring right into a blinding purple light that blinked as it registered him into the system for the day. “Takashi Shirogane. Soldier. Rank One of Sector Black. Vrepit Sa.” He spoke into the microphone imbedded into the wall. For some odd reason, he always felt the slightest bit more at ease after he was done registering for the day, perhaps it was simply the fact that it meant he was able to go out on the front lines and do his job. Perhaps it was because it reassured him that he knew his place in the world, in that army. It didn’t matter to him anymore as he brushed it aside and continued down out of the roughly constructed building to the weapons and technology sector across the camp, walking briskly and with purpose, posture perfectly in line. He steeped inside, got in line behind other soldiers as he waited, keeping an eye on the time as the line moved forwards. Each soldier ahead of him grabbed their weapons and grabbed their ‘Dulciloquent Radio Under Instructional Directioning’ or D. R. U. I. D. which was a small earpiece that was to be slipped inside of one’s ear and listen for orders to advance or retreat. One could also receive very specific order from their D. R. U. I. D. to go and carry out a specific side mission such as slipping inside of enemy lines and planting a weapon of the sort. 

Shiro continued going through the line until it was his turn to pick up his items. For the day he chose a small pistol to be strapped to his thigh, a regular automatic rifle, and a clean, sharp, dagger for especially close combat if he were to need it today. He picked up his dulciloquent radio, raised his hand up to his ear and allowed for the small robot to slip inside, the start up sound being a soothing woman’s voice, reading off his orders to go to frontline sector thirty-one for the day and advising he would receive further orders once he arrived. 

When he did arrive at sector thirty-one, the D.R.U.I.D did in fact start speaking to him again through his ear in that magically soothing tone of voice again, “Shirogane, Commander Sendak wishes you to deploy out on a side mission, specifically wishing you to go head on with rebel forces and to plant some explosives to bring down one of the major buildings. Would you be up for the task?” The woman in his ear whispered and almost immediately Shiro felt him nodding his head and agreeing to the mission. “Of course, tell Commander Sendak I thank him for the mission. Vrepit Sa.” He replied smoothly back into the earpiece and collected c4 and grenades for his little ‘excursion’ over to the other side. The radio in his ear constantly played a soothing, repetitive background noise in his ear, helping him focus on the task at hand as he hooked the explosives into his belt, ready to go plant them all over the last city of the Rebellion. He grabbed a silent running, army issued dirt bike to quickly traverse the short distance of field between the front lines and the city borders. He pulled up to a wall and parked the bike, skirting around the edges of the city until he found an unsuspicious place to enter, crouching low and listening out intensely for any people. It seemed as though no one was here and that Shiro was left alone. He felt a bolt of confusion run through him. This place was supposed to be absolutely littered with Rebels, yet it seems as though not a single soul was in here as he slowly stalked his way through the building, placing c4 as he went, leaving a trail of the explosive behind. However, no matter how empty the building looked, he could almost feel a pair of eyes watching him. But whenever he turned around, nothing was there. Shiro continued his duty of going through the building and setting up the explosives, still unable to shake that feeling off of his back… 

It was rare for him to feel so wary… So uneasy… Something wasn’t right…


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened, from Allura's side

Allura lifted up her skirts and tiptoed her way through the pool of blood. It was funny, considering she seemed to be evading the bodies of crimson, but her dress, once gorgeous, had been reduced to tattered cloth with great splotches of blood decorating the skirts.

 

Just as she tiptoed through the ruins of her city, she herself walked a fine line every day. Her mind was wearing, broken and fracturing with her surroundings. She danced along the edge of sane and insane, and in her circumstances, it was a miracle she hadn’t completely broken down.

 

Body after body. She walked over them, her face twisted in agony.Her people…they were all gone. All gone, she was the last one left. 

 

It had been a few days since the Galra had made their appearance. Although the Alteans had been wary, no actual signs of rebellion had been shown. Allura had been very curious, wandering closer to their ships to get a look at them. They had been uninteresting, there had been little to no activity. Well, when she had gotten back into the city, she had realized why. The Galra had infiltrated the city, and had lined up rows and rows of Alteans. All were kneeling, their heads ducked. Frightened, Allura had watched, warily peeking out from behind a pillar. This didn’t seem good. 

 

After a command from the higher ranking Galra officer, the soldiers had opened fire, and blood and bodies littered the floor, the sounds of screams and the thrums of bullets being the only sounds to accompany it. She had watched in horror as her father was shot in the head, point blank. She had to press a hand against her mouth to stifle the scream that had built up in her throat.

 

A hand had wrapped around her wrist and had pulled her back carefully. She had come face to face with her uncle, Coran, who had been determined to keep them both alive. 

 

That had been yesterday.

 

_“Coran! Where are we going?” She had whispered to him as he grabbed her wrist and ran. Tears had begun falling down her face sometime during it all, and she hadn’t noticed until the saltiness had stung her raw lips._

 

_“Somewhere to hide! We need to get out of here, Allura! We can’t stay here for much longer. They’ll find us!” Coran had whispered quickly, and it was a mad dash to keep up with his pace._

 

_The pace had eventually led to his downfall, however. Coran’s foot had caught on loose rubble, and a loud clattering noise had sounded. Allura was suddenly shoved into a nearby building, her shoulder getting caught under the blocks.She had been twisted in a good enough angle to see her uncle, and she wanted to call out to him, to tell him to hide. It had been too late. The Galra had located the noise and found him._

 

_“Thinking about running, eh? It’s time for you to join the others.” The soldier had snarled, and with a flash and a loud bang, her uncle had lain there, dead, the life seeping out of his now glassy eyes._

 

Everyone was gone. Everyone was gone, and she was all alone in this desolate city. She wished that she had been caught with her uncle, it would have been a quicker way to escape this suffering.

 

 

She heard sounds, scuffling of sorts, and immediately retreated into the shadows. She didn’t know why she bothered with hiding anymore, but she supposed that she didn’t want to die at the hands of the Galra. Well, she didn’t want to die at all, but that wasn’t an option anymore. She was going to die sooner or later. 

 

She watched carefully, her breathing slow and labored. She noticed that it had gotten a bit more shallower, and it might have been due to her injury. She couldn’t feel it, didn’t pay it any attention.

 

There was a solider, right in front of her, and he appeared to be planting something here and there. Bombs. 

 

Well, she was going to die. She might as well go down with her city. 

 

How had this happened? Only a few days ago, she had been getting teased about possible suitors, only a few days ago she had relished the open air of the markets and thought about getting a new dress.

 

Now, the air was tinged with the smell of chemicals and the putrid scent of rotting flesh. The only dress in her possession was the one she was wearing. 

 

She watched the soldier curiously—and it appeared that he knew of her presence. Why was he not turning around and killing her? That’s what they did to all the others? Why her? Why not her, rather? 

 

He looked…rather normal compared to what she envisioned him as. Maybe in her own twisted perspective of him, she had imagined the soldiers to be ugly, mortifying creatures that were evil.

 

But, this one looked normal. Pale skin, a scar stretching across his nose. Slanted eyes. He would kill her, without hesitation. 

 

Maybe she wanted to die. There was nothing left for her anymore, so what was the point? She had no where to go, no food, no water, no nothing. She’s sure that if she actually tried, she could survive, but what was the point? The city was going to get blown up anyways, judging by the bombs the solider was planting. If she gathered resources and ran, the Galra would eventually catch up to her and silence her once and for all.

 

Maybe she wanted to get caught.

 

She kicked a rock, partially to get his attention, then stepped out into his view. She wasn’t sure if she could understand him, or he could understand her, so she didn’t waste her time with words or anything of the sort.

 

No, she simply sank to her knees, ducked her head like how her people had done when they were faced with dead, and waited for him to shoot her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! hope you enjoyed! leave comments for us, kudos for us as well! 
> 
> catch me on tumblr: @chai-and-coffee


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro encounters someone particular and has a bit of an inner conflict

Shiro continued on his path of setting the explosives, crouching down at one of them robotically as he fiddled with the wires that had transmitters that synced up with buttons that he had to press. It was just one building that he was working on, really. But it was the one of the largest ones left in the city and he had the task of bringing it down. It was all symbolism with him, the perfect soldier, bringing down the last pillar of the rebellion. 

Peace or death. 

It was odd… He worked efficiently but it still felt as though he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He felt panicky almost, despite the DRUID in his ear humming to keep him calm and placid. 

He thought he heard foot steps and started to work quicker, stepping up to the next floor as he did his work. 

His feet scuffled along the floor of the building, the visor of his helmet not flipped down, heart ramming out of his chest like a racehorse pounding away down a dirt track. 

Time seemed to slow down as he heard a stone clatter and land right in front of his feet, just a plain, pale grey stone. Someone was here… Thoughts flashed through  
Shiro’s head quickly, reverting right back into a man of stone as he reached right past the pistol strapped loosely to his leg and grabbed the leather hilt of his knife. 

He pulled the knife out from its hilt and froze as he spotted the girl that had stepped out from the shadows. So that’s who was watching him… This must’ve been a rebel. She had to be, she didn't have anything that mentioned the army on her clothes and she had looked at him with a defeat in her eyes. It struck him at his core. But ingrained instincts took over and he threw the knife, the weapon turning hilt over edge as it spun through the air. However at the last second before throwing it, Shiro has faltered just a moment, his numb facade breaking as it left his hand. The knife lodged itself into the wall behind the girl’s head, just missing her by a hair as it was placed right beside her neck. 

He had missed. Takashi Shirogane had missed. 

She wasn’t violent towards him, which prompted an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Everything that had been taught to him was around the basis that the rebels were violent and would try to kill you on sight if you did not neutralize them first. 

Except… She wasn’t trying to kill him. She wasn’t rushing him, attacking him. She just stood there. Waiting for death. This felt wrong. The DRUID was still repeating instructions like a parrot Imbedded his ear. “Bomb the building. Place the bomb. Sync the transmitter. Move Along. Bomb the building…” The little bot chirped, almost tuning out all background noise.  
He stepped forwards towards the girl cautiously. He wasn’t going to waste ammo on this… rebel. But was she even considered a rebel? He shoved the thought aside, forcing his emotions down as he kept his arms up in a fighting position, reaching out and yanking the knife out by the hilt and holding the sharp point towards her dangerously. 

Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to just kill her already. Get it over with and continue the mission. All he had to do was blow up the building. Finish off the rebel resistance and be on his way, but why wasn’t she fighting? 

What if he… failed?

The fear of failing was deeply rooted inside of his very soul. Failing meant… He didn’t know what failing meant. All he knew was that anyone who had failed had gotten punished in some way or were released from command. Demoted down to dirt. He couldn’t afford that, it would kill him inside. It would kill his entire bloodline’s reputation. 

Interrogation. He could go with interrogation. Get information about this girl and dispose of her, it wouldn’t matter if the higher ups knew he killed her anyway. He’d be praised for it anyway, praised for keeping the ‘peace’. Ah yes, peace. How that small little word felt heavy in his mouth and tongue. How it used to feel like and airy whenever he was on the battlefield. Whenever he threw a grenade, or saw a body disappear behind a barricade and not reappear, that same word would float through his ears and numb every other feeling. He was doing his duty. 

He moved the knife closer to the girl’s throat threateningly, trying to instill a bit of a fear factor. Surprisingly, this was easier said than done when your target looked like there was no emotion left in them. 

Shiro’s mind whirled as to what to ask this girl. He was getting distracted, the perfect soldier never gets distracted. So he reached up and yanked out his DRUID from his ear, tucking it away in his pocket. The jarring silence hit him like a slap across the face, but he pushed on. 

Remember, they are the enemy. Don’t let looks fool you, Shirogane. They are the ones who have killed so many of our side. You must avenge them. Get the mission finished. 

Commander Sendak’s words rung through his mind, clear as day. The weight of the left over explosives on his belt feeling as though he was being dragged into his grave. He had to be on his toes. 

“Who are you?” He hissed, sheathing his gun and replacing it with a pistol pointed in the rebel’s face. Various other words where on the tip of his tongue. He almost wanted to see what made rebels tick.  
Was she even going to put up a fight? He wondered and he tightened his grip around the pistol more. 

Deep down he was questioning why he was even wasting his time on her? But somehow he figured that he might just get something out of it.

 

What he didn’t realize was that that something might just be a bullet to the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one! keep an eye out for the next one and leave comments about what you thought about it and kudos! -Leftbrain


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some healing ;)

The bullet zinged by her head, and she flinched, her head snapping to one side. Her ear rung, and she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized that she had been holding. 

 

This one was vile. This one…his intent was clear in his eyes, and she wondered what made the Galra hate them so much.

 

She waited, feeling the rust of something metallic approaching her, and she took a slow breath. It was a pistol. Not exactly her preferred way to die, but a method nevertheless. She took a moment, gathering what she was going to say. It had been a while since there had been a use for her voice. “My name is Allura, and I am the last of the Alteans.” She said, and as soon as her words stop, a blast rang out. A scream escaped her mouth, and as she was thrown into the pavement, her eyes were already blinking to clear the fog in her eyes. 

 

She appraised the situation in front of her, blinking, and it looked like the solider was hit with something, and the concrete flanking them had hit the projectile.She pushed herself up off the cinder blocks, trying to forget the feeling of blood pooling in her mouth. The rough edges cut the palms of her hands as she made her way to the soldier. Oh, she was definitely wounded, but that could be attended to another time. She stared down at the soldier, her eyes bright and burning with hate. He was the example. He was one of them, one of those who had murdered her planet to extinction. 

 

Yet, something in her couldn’t bring her to kill him. It would be easy, to clamp a hand over his mouth, to strangle him, to do anything, really. But she couldn’t. That wasn’t the Altean way. 

 

She wasn’t quite sure how she wound up in this situation, and she cursed Coran for trying to keep her alive. 

 

“We need to go.” She muttered darkly, and she found herself lifting the solider up onto her shoulder with ease. Judging by his groan of pain, his injury was located somewhere on his torso. She paused for a moment, slightly straining under her heavy load. She positioned herself, then crushed his communicating device with one powerful stroke of her heel.

 

She could have sprinted easily with his weight, but that was a different her. This Allura was tired and malnourished, and wounded. She managed a steady pace, trekking across the backside of the ruins where the Galra wouldn’t be able to find them. It was a long walk, the stones cutting into her feet, but she really couldn’t sense the pain. She couldn’t sense much of anything, really. The loss of her planet, her people, her family rang in anguish in her chest.

 

Before she was left too long with her thoughts, she finally made it to the little camp she had set up in the nook of one of the buildings. Camp was too generous of a word for it, seeing as it had absolutely no shelter, bare supplies of water, and no food. She set him down on a slab of marble that looked that it could hold his weight, and sighed in relief when it did. 

 

“I don’t have anything—I don’t have any painkillers.” She said, and the statement would have been caring, had it not been for the spite trickling into the bars of her voice. She didn’t heal him right away. She first detached the explosives from his belt, tucking it in a place where she could access it. The same went for his pistol.

 

Allura finally pressed her palms to the solider’s chest, and closed her eyes. Her body was coated in a soft, white glow as quintessence surged through her. She had discovered this ability when she was younger, just a little girl, and both her father and Coran had said that she was destined for great things. She didn’t know about great things, but she had always kept her eye on the profession of being a healer. That too, would not come true. Another wish to join the pile of scattered ones. 

 

She pushed a surge of energy through him, feeling ignorant as she used this so-called gift. She really didn’t know much about it, and the libraries had provided little information. Her energy surged forward, and eventually reached the area of his injury. She could have used another pulse of energy to soothe him, but she was too upset over the death of her people to show more sympathy to this murderer.

 

_Finish the job, Allura._

 

As she slowly began to mend the wound, coaxing the bullet out from where it had nestled between his ribs, connecting damaged nerve endings, healing flaps of skin, her marks began to glow. It was the softest pink, the color of her bloodsplattered dress. 

 

As time went on, her hands pressing into his chest with more pressure, her marks began to glow even more, especially her eyemarks. She healed him, but not only the wound, every single cut and burn that was on his body. Her body began to shake with his effort, and she screamed at herself to pull away, to save herself now.

 

She couldn’t. For some reason, she was restricted against him, continually healing the bullet wound that must have sapped more out of him than she had originally thought. A soft whimper escaped her gritted lips as she pushed more and more quintessence to help heal the wound. 

 

When she was finally done, her hands yanked away from his chest like they were on fire, and her glowing, pulsating marks faded. The glow was completely gone, and there was no color present in her face. The vibrance that had glowed within her was completely gone, and it was clear that the healing had sapped most of her energy.

 

With a groan, she slumped over the side and crumpled in a heap, unconscious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if you liked! be sure to leave some kudos!
> 
> catch me on tumblr: @chai-and-coffee


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro... revisits a bit of his past and has a bit of a change of heart.

Shiro felt pain race through his side as a bullet lodged itself into his side, somewhere in his ribcage. 

This was it for him, he was going to die here, at the fault of himself and a rebel. And he didn’t even know what had hit him, the tides had turned that quickly. He tried to move while on the ground but that was nearly impossible and made his head swim. Blood seeped through his uniform, causing it to stick to his wound as he faded in and out of consciousness. 

The last thing he saw before he blacked out were blue, piercing, rage filled eyes. 

/The sun was shining over bright blue skies, hope and excitement were buzzing through the air, electrifying everything like a powerful shot of adrenaline. It was his last day before he would be promoted into officially being accepted into the Galra academy. 

Overall, he had been absolutely ecstatic to be admitted, all his hard work paying off eventually. But on the other hand, he was nervous. He would be leaving the only family he had ever known to be accepted into a new one. He’d be leaving behind his older sister and his mom and dad. Of course they congratulated him and all, they had gone through the exact same situation that he had been many years prior.

But the celebrations that were going on that day had gotten to his head a bit too much and he excused himself out to go run some errands, stealing away to go to the nearby park that was littered with beautiful greenery and a pond. There, everything was safe. The sun still shone brightly, the water bubbling and gurgling as it washed over pale, smooth stones that occupied the small bank. Turtles could be seen basking in the light and dipping under the surface of the water, the entire scene radiating a comforting sense of calm. 

He felt… 

Alone. 

Not lonely per se, that was a different feeling of hollowness and pain that had its own experience to itself, but alone. There was nobody around this small spot that he had crouched himself down by, aside from the little touches of wildlife that inhabited the small pond and the trees surrounding it. 

Birds sung, bushes rustled, the minutes ticked on as he sat down into the dirt, careful not to get his outfit dirty for fear of facing the wrath of a very angry Japanese mother. Calm. He was finally calm. Of course, the time spent at the park came to an end as his phone started buzzing at him, a message from his sister telling him to hurry home before their mother got into a foul mood and ruins the night. 

So he pushed himself off of the ground, bid a last, small farewell before he ducked out from the over hang of trees that shrouded the small pond. 

Left behind were a pair of initials freshly carved into one of the grand oak trees.

T. S. 

He hadn’t been back home to that pond ever since. 

/

The memory washed away as Shiro sunk deeper into a daze of unconsciousness unaware of what was happening before a startling, burning pain raced through his body like a flame catching on a Molotov cloth soaked with gasoline. 

/Thunderous steps pounded through the compound, the sounds ringing against the walls before going out into open air. Heavy breaths heaved through his lungs, burning with dust. But he felt like it was all a dream.

All he could see was the back of someones helmet that blocked his view of almost everything around him aside from a few slivers of the environment around him that could be seen from his peripheral vision. Despite standing at a solid six one, he was one of the smaller members of the army, with everyone around him standing at six five or taller. The height difference was too hard when it cam got training, though it did provide a bit of a difficulty at first when he first started sparring. An alarm dinged throughout the compound, signaling a change in activity.

Speaking of training… It was time for something new. Rumors told of new training drones, fresh for the recruits. 

He wanted to be one of the first ones that tried them out, but it turned out that they were going to run everyone through with them and see how they held up.  
They were herded to the training arena, where squad trainings would usually take place and help sharpen skills for battle. 

But this felt… different. As though a new dark cloud had fixed itself inside of the cramped room as one of the trainee’s why was quite the skilled fighter was volunteered for the first fighting drone.

From there everything went down hill, the drone resembling that of a monster rather than the standard humanoid figure as it fought viciously against the trainee, ripping into the trainee with no restraint, the fight wasn’t called off until the trainee had finally managed to disable it by sticking his weapon into the eye of the robot and forcing it through. The trainee was barely helped out of the arena and was taken straight to the infirmary. 

The scene was… horrifying. But it was war. Still, there was something wrong with that faint scene. However he didn’t have time to ponder the thought any further before he was tossed into the arena with no weapon, his rifle being dropped as he was shoved. He swallowed as the next, brand new drone started up. He felt a new emotion shoot through him. Terror. The beast charged… 

The next time he woke up he had a metal arm, a scar across his nose and a sense of pliancy to him. He was broken. /

Shiro jerked in his unconscious state and struggled as the feeling of magic wrenched through his bod, but everything felt as though his body was lead. A scream caught in his throat as he sat up gasping for air, the Altean rebel crumpled on the floor right next to him, causing him to scramble away into standing. 

He felt… better. He touched his fingers to where his wound was and felt nothing, as though he hadn’t even been shot. His mind grappled with ideas of how that could’ve happened, none of them even making any sense as he tried to ground himself and analyze the situation. He glanced at the girl. 

He should’ve been dead. He had been completely at her mercy and here she was, collapsed. Was she even okay? He didn’t know. 

Time to find out. 

Shiro bent down over the girl and stuck his hand underneath her nose to feel for breathing. He could just barely feel it, it could’ve been a passing breeze it was so faint, so he leaned his head over her chest and heard her heart beating. She was alive, just… sleeping. He straightened up and ran yanked off his helmet, running a hand through his hair. The building that they had been had been demolished and with no reports from him back to the base, he would be reported as dead. There goes those connections. A bold thought struck him suddenly. 

This girl saved his life. He might as well make sure she doesn’t die. For debt reasons of course, not because he cared. No, Takashi Shirogane didn’t care. 

He scooped up the girl and looked for a somewhat comfortable place to place her down. Nothing seemed to work, so he made do by taking off his jacket and laying it out flat to keep her body from getting further injured by rocks. He set her head down on his thigh as he continued to de gear slightly for comforts sake. He peeled off the ‘bulletproof’ vest that had absorbed some of the force of the bullet, probably stopping it from going all the way through his body and exiting out the other side, and set it aside. He tucked it under his helmet and leaned his head against a wall. he gently brushed back her hair away from her face as she slept, not wanting it to get in her eyes when she woke up. It was just a gesture, nothing more, simply for conveniences sake. 

He didn’t have any weapons, communications, and even though his side wasn’t too far away, he didn’t want to leave this girl to die for some odd reason as he waited for her to wake up.

What was happening to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I really loved writing this chapter out and I think this is the one I'm the most proud of so far.  
> Comment and leave kudos if you liked it! -LeftBrain
> 
> Edit: apparently my html commands for italicized text aren't working so I'll add in forward slashes where the flashbacks begin and end.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura's request
> 
> WARNING: themes of suicide

Allura felt a hand stroking her hair back, and she sighed, her chapped lips parting to let a rush of air through. The flutter of hair that had been moved away from her eyes ushered in cool air, which she was eternally grateful for.

 

“Five more minutes.” She pleaded, as if her father was cradling her, telling her to wake up and go to school. She turned her head and pressed her face into the thigh, grumbling slightly at being woken up. 

 

Her father was gone, though. How did this feel so real? Was she dead? Did she join her father in the land of the Eternal Soul? She pulled her head up, her eyes wide. But, it isn’t steady blue eyes that she’s so familiar with staring back at her, it’s dark eyes, not a native color to the Alteans. 

 

Oh. She blinks and she recognizes where she is, finally. She groans and pushes up off the solider’s thigh, narrowing her eyes. She grips his chin, tilting his head to her so she can check his eyes, and when she’s satisfied, she pulls away. As she stands up, a jacket slides off of her and her eyes widen. He had his jacket out for her.

 

“I healed you. Either kill me, or go back to your people.” She hisses, her eyes glimmering with barely concealed hate. She hates the fact that she wasted her energy to heal him, but she wasn’t like his race. When she saw someone in need, she helped them. 

 

Speaking about healing, her body’s drained and tired from all the quintessence she’s pushed through to him. Her pale color is yet to return back to normal, and the marks that once glowed fiercely contain no hint of the energy that it once had. She manages to stand a minute on her feat before groaning, slumping over. Things seem hazy, and no matter how many times she blinks and blinks again, the world doesn’t right itself. She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the world from spinning. 

 

She needs to go. He needs to go. She knows that they’re planning on bombing the city soon, and she has no plans of leaving. She will be dying with the rest of the city, with her people. She has no desire to live on and uphold ideals that will no longer be held up by others.

 

She feels as though she’s lost a piece of her soul. Her people, her city, everything is gone. If she stands up, she can clearly see the bodies littering the roads a few streets away. If she pays attention, maybe she can make out a flash of silver hair like hers, or a burst of orange hair. Everyone that she ever knew, is lying out in front of her, glassy eyes open and strange animals feeding from their rotting corpses.

 

That thought brings her attention to the enemy soldier sitting in front of her. She hates him. She hates him more than ever thought she could hate a person. But here he is.

 

A thought makes her realize that she still thinks of him as a person, as a person who has emotions, and she knows that’s too far of a stretch. He’s a controlled puppet of the Galra, one who murders in cold blood.

 

Of course, she knows that’s not true. He’s had multiple opportunities to kill her, yet she’s still alive and breathing in front of him.Every second that he spends in front of her poses a danger to her plan. She stumbles to the corner of the ruins they’ve sought refuge in, and hisses when she drops to her knees, the skin being sliced by the rocks littering the ground. She thrusts her hand out, blindly into the crevice and digs out his pistol and his explosives. 

 

She limps back, over to him, well aware that she’s arming an enemy. “Your pistol. Your explosives. Your earpiece is destroyed, but you are smart enough to come up with a clever lie. Again, I present you with an option. Either kill me now, or return to your duty and let me be.” She offers, but it isn’t in a genial manner. Her voice sounds alien to herself. It isn’t cold or unforgiving or anything of the sort. It’s a flat, dead tone of voice.

 

Her tone shows everything that’s expressed on her body. She’s tired. Exhausted, both physically and mentally. She slumps in front of him, her eyes fixated on a spot that only she can see. She’s tired, she wants to be relieved of this pain.

 

She doesn’t beg. No, she doesn’t think so lowly of herself that she would beg a mere soldier to kill her. If her father had been alive, he would have made a facetious comment about her being a princess in her own right, demanding that she set her own terms and conditions for her death at the hands of an enemy solider. To think about her father hurts, but she’ll be relieved of that soon. She isn’t going to plead for someone to kill her, especially not when there’s so many opportunities to take that into her own hands.

 

She stands up, crossing her arms. Her eyes fixate on him, and they narrow as if she’s trying to glare at him, but it only comes off as a fatigued look. Her body seems to be working against her, and the scrape that she had just endured has clumped, a scab forming over the skin, protecting the golden liquid of her life essence from dribbling out. 

 

 

She can imagine what this building was. It was a house, and if she pokes in the rocks, she can make out the distinct wire of a bedspread, of a safe, of different things. She imagines a family like hers lived here, a family with giggling children and amused parents.

 

Gone. All gone. 

 

She turned back to the solider, pinning him under her gaze once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me on tumblr: @chai-and-coffee


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit happens.

The minute he felt the handle of his pistol in his hand again was the moment he felt the flame of a thousand sun burn into his palm and race up his arm, causing him to immediately toss the weapon aside and push away the explosives from him and her. 

He couldn’t do this. 

He owed her. 

She saved his life. 

Everything that he had done weighed down on him like a heavy brick. He couldn’t kill another person if you paid him, he felt different.   
And the worst part of it all was that he didn’t even know why. 

He was supposed to be the perfect soldier. Cold. Ruthless. Unwavering. But here he was, completely unsure of himself and unable to pick up his own weapon, the mere touch sending him into feelings of unwell and feelings of his gut being pulled in million different directions. It took him a while to realize what was wrong. 

He owed a debt. He owed her his life that she had saved and his stupid skewed system of justice wouldn’t let him change that. He had to at least pay her back somehow, she healed him, he might as well nurse her back to health before he goes back to his side and continues to work in the army like all those before him.   
Shiro looked over this tired girl with mixed feelings swirling around in his stomach. HE wasn’t going to just kill her after he owed him. It may be the Galra way, but it is not his.

Not a word was uttered from his mouth as he stepped forwards towards her, gently taking her hand and sitting her down in the rubble as he works at trying o fix her wounds with what little supplies he has. Thankfully, there is a small first aid kit that he has tucked away in one of the pockets in his jacket and he’s already pulling it out, using the small vial of antiseptic to clean her up before he wraps up her injuries with tender touches despite the hard calluses that embed into his palms. 

Shiro mutters a small collection of different things as he works, the gruff tone seeping into his words under his breath. 

“I’m not going to kill you. After this, we’re even. That’s it okay? You can find someone else to kill you because after this I’m going back to my base and hoping I don’t get knocked down in rank for taking so damn long and getting my earpiece broken.” He insisted, though he figured his words were falling on deaf ears. “You should go somewhere else anyway, it's not right that you stay here with the rubble. Flee while you still can. To me and to anyone else in the galra army, you don’t exist the only thing that got me spooked was a wild animal that attacked me and forced my earpiece to break. Thats all” He started to ramble, going on and on until he was done with taking care of the wounds. Shiro finished and stepped away from Allura, not bothering to cast another eye to eye gaze, they had had enough of those already and he was not about to get attached to girl from the enemy side. So he stepped out of the little makeshift shelter that allura had taken him to and started to slowly step away from it. 

It was not his first trek throughout a destroyed city, he had done the same journey through different places time and time before after the people were long gone, no evidence that anyone lived there to remain or instill any emotions into him. Ah, emotions. What messy things, they made one feel so churned up inside, he was taught it blurred the senses, made everything foggy and partially his teachers were right. Emotions were absolutely messy. But something else seemed wrong, incorrect, and he just didn’t know what. 

His legs carried him over the rubble, where he could see the remains of buildings. But this felt different. It felt like grief, though he had nothing to be grieving for. Oh how he hoped that whatever that girl did to him to heal him didn’t suddenly instill a part of her in him, because that would just make everything so much worse. He didn’t realize that someone was following him all the way back to camp, the notion not even crossing his mind because anyone who was not part of the Galra army would immediately become a prisoner of war. 

He could see the entrance to the camp and soon enough he was checking back in without a problem, telling his superiors about what he had experienced with a wild animal attacking him in one of the buildings and setting off an explosive but he took care of it with relatively few injuries. 

“General Sendak, I have returned from my mission.” Shiro explained calmly, though every nerve in his body was quite intimidated by the air of authority. 

He didn’t get a response, so instead Shiro walked away, his palms still sweating slightly from the whole encounter. For some reason, the entire thing felt so so wrong. He felt different, changed. 

Damn that rebel girl. 

But everything was fine until Shiro was handed a rifle and suddenly ordered to stand as the middleman in a firing squad. 

His stomach dropped, who?


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura following shiro

Allura sighed quietly as the soldier nursed her back to health. This man, who once looked at her with a sense of hatred, was now tending to her injuries in the tenderest manner possible. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall, and coughed. The dust arising from the destruction was making her lungs weak, and one cough turned into a series of coughs.

 

The soldier seemed to pay no mind, though, and she was grateful. Maybe she could start coughing and simply never have the ability to take another breath. Maybe that would be it for her. As she lingered in the endless possibilities of her death, she realized that the soldier was talking to her. 

 

He kept murmuring things about them being even, about him not killing her, which was a pity. She really thought he had it in him to put an end to her. Of course, she should have known that out of all the people to find her, the weakest, softhearted fool of the Galra army would. 

 

Whatever. Nature would take its course on her. 

 

One thing nagged at her mind. If this man was going back to the Galra army, wouldn’t that mean that he would have to tell them about her? She didn’t believe him for a second that he would say that nothing happened. That wasn’t like the Galra. They were liars and deceivers. If he said that he wouldn’t tell anyone that she was there, that would mean that he would. 

 

She would have to follow him. She didn’t want him to tell the Galra, partly because they would send out someone to kill her. They couldn’t have someone running around and telling other people of what had happened to her city. She couldn’t have that. She wanted to be able to die on her own terms, not on someone else’s.

 

As the solider pushed up to stand, she assumed that he was leaving, her hand, soft and pliable reached out. Hers neatly slid into his, and she managed a squeeze. A squeeze to express appreciation for the fact that he had fixed her up. A squeeze that promised that if he betrayed her, hell would break loose. 

 

Of course, he wouldn’t know that. His Galra brain wouldn’t comprehend the meaning behind the Altean gesture. 

 

She waited for a few minutes before walking out of the shelter herself. Her feet were heavily bandaged up, she had lost her shoes in the fallout. Of course, crimson was a regular sight on all of her bandages. She really didn’t care for or mind them, really, they were just doing a better job than her. 

 

She padded after Shiro, her footsteps barely making any noise against the rocks. She followed him discreetly, wondering how he would tell them. Would she be able to eavesdrop, would she be able to hear him ratting her out?

 

How was this even going to work? All of a sudden, she understood why her father constantly scolded her for her impatience, for her constant rushing into things. She didn’t even have a plan, yet here she was, following an enemy soldier into an enemy base. 

 

Really, she ought to be smacked. Maybe then she would get some sense smacked into her. 

 

Her fear factor accelerated when she trudged into camp, only a few paces away from Shiro. Sure, she had been the one to come up with the plan, but as she slunk into the center of camp, it was only then she realized the weight of what she was doing.

 

Was it really bad to let these people kill her? It would mean that her death would come faster and she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. And she knew these Galra brutes, they would simply kill her and move on to eradicate another race. 

 

But no. There was something wrong about that decision. She was the last free Altean, and she would not die at the hands of another. She would die with her people, the ruins of her razed city. She would die on her own terms, and that would be final.

 

Just as she thought about her death, a firm hand wrapped around her bicep. She had been so lost in thought that she had completely forgotten about the need to keep her cover.

 

“Looks like Shirogane brought back a prisoner.” A gravelly voice said, and she writhed, kicking and attempting to break free, but to no avail. The soldier’s grip was simply too strong, but she didn’t stop kicking and huffing in her attempts to get away. She heard chuckles from behind her, and that made her even more violent, attempting to scratch and bite if she could. 

 

“She’s feisty.” A soldier remarked, and she was able to lash out enough to kick him in the shin. 

 

“Here. She seems to be asking to get killed. Go get Shirogane. He can take care of his prisoner.” Someone snarled. 

 

Allura cried out as she was yanked by her hair down to her knees, the sand digging into the bandaged folds of flesh. Her arms were tied roughly behind her back with a jagged piece of something that dug into her wrists. 

 

No. She had just said that she didn’t want this, that she wanted to die on her own terms. But she figured that the Ancients were never on her side. 

 

Her eyes fixated upon the soldier from before, the one who had nursed her back to health and called them even. He looked surprised to see her there. He hadn’t told. He hadn’t told anyone. 

 

“Shiro—“ She coughed out, remembering his name from the other soliders, but a cough interrupted her utterance of his entire name, bending forward as the dust moved and settled in the crevices of her lungs. A well placed kick to her abdomen from one of the soldiers made her right herself. 

 

She blinked, tears staring to slip down her face from the rising dust. Her blue eyes looked at him, locked on the jagged structure of his face. She blinked once more, and the despair was blinked away from her eyes. 

 

Do not give them the advantage. Not them. 

 

So, she looked her executioner dead in the eyes, waiting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment!
> 
> drop a kudos!
> 
> catch me on tumblr: @chai-and-coffee


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> release

Shiro felt his heart stop and start, stuttering as he watched the scene in front of him. Allura was crying, her gaze piercing his very soul as he stood there, rifle heavy in his hand. He could feel the very atmosphere of his fellow soldiers as they pressed closer to him, one on each side of him. They raised their guns, time seeming to slow down as they did so. 

Shiro followed, raising his metal weapon to look through the scope as per protocol.  
Allura was right between his crosshairs, her dust streaked cheeks, her blazing blue eyes, her silver hair seeming almost blinding. She looked like an angel with the fiery sunlight of the horizon bathing her in gold. An angel facing the barrel of death, unflinching. 

_The sun was setting over a painfully humid afternoon and Shiro was sweating past himself, the sheen beading down his face as he ran laps around a maroon track. It wasn’t a punishment for him, it was a release therapy for him after the long day of the Academy and the vicious environment it entailed. It was his savior, the only noise being the pounding of his own feet rather than the marching of hundreds of others. This was entirely for him. He felt free. It felt…_

_Good._

_It felt good. He continued his pace, a steady strong speed as he let his mind wander, losing track of just how many laps he did. A bell sounded, calling free time to be over as he slowed down to a jog back to his dorms. Gone was the feeling of euphoria. Gone was the feeling of something that had belonged to him. Gone was feeling. ___

__He exhaled, his breath suddenly shuddering as he remembered._ _

__He remembered what it was like before. He longed for that feeling. He needed that feeling again._ _

__A voice shouted, calling the attention of him and the rest of the firing squad._ _

__“Ready!”  
The urge to drop his rifle and step in front of the two barrels next to him was maaddening. She had done nothing wrong. _ _

__“Aim!”  
She shouldn’t even be here! He had left her behind! Why would she follow him?! _ _

__“Victory or Death!”_ _

__Shiro made his decision. Instead of waiting for “Fire!” He swung his rifle at the soldier on his right, bludgeoning him upside the head before whirling around with an almost deadly speed and shooting the other soldier in the chest without the slightest regret to his actions. Almost immediately chaos broke out as he took off running with his rifle, an immediate threat to all those around him being that he was one of their top soldiers. It was unheard of one to turn traitor, and yet here he was. He sprinted through the camp, disappearing around corners and taking out those who stood in his way. He ducked inside of an empty room that was used for storing surplus weaponry and barricaded the door before he flattened himself to the floor as bullets started to pepper the outer walls, hoping to shoot a Shiro that was standing up and reloading his weapon. Thankfully, he knew better. He knew each and everyone of their tactics, but he also knew just how to get himself out of a pinch._ _

__When in doubt, go down.  
He pressed his hand against the floorboards as he heard the soldiers start reloading after they had emptied their clips and started to try and break their way into where he was at. He pressed down… Click! The trapdoor imbedded under the ground for if an enemy were to ever invade camp opened and Shiro was out of there. He sprinted along the tunnel system, his chest heaving as blood through him. He felt alive again. He was running, running and dipping back up into the camp to provide more chaos and diversions at the expense of his life. _ _

__This alone was worth it for Shiro._ _

__The fact that he was giving Allura one more chance at freedom and a new life while he got to live his last hours doing what he longed to do all along? Worth it. Every bit of it._ _

__But all good things must come to an end._ _

__Eventually, Shiro was corned in the dark shadow of a concreted training building with no way to escape and a gun barrel pressed up against his head once he ran out of ammo. Everything seemed to catch up to him, the things he did, the feelings he felt, all of it feeling too debilitating._ _

__He waited. He waited for the bullet to end everything for him. But it didn’t come. Almost immediately, horror filled his body as he realized that he was being forced onto his hands and knees and was quickly bound and gagged like a hog at a roast. A voice growled in his ear as he thrashed, “Since you love being a traitor, it’ll be fitting for you to die in our enemies last remains, isn’t it Takashi.” General Sendak mused as Shiro struggled but was hit upside the head to daze him._ _

__His head swam. Everything went fuzzy as he was dragged along the ground. Dust and blood could be tasted on his gag and he dry heaved, nothing coming out as he went limp, accepting what was about to given to him. There was supposed to be a last obliteration of Altea, a bomb drop right in the heart as a bit of symbolism. A message. He groaned in pain as he was tugged along, his head aching and his throat trying not to choke on the sand that he was being dragged through. He had to remind himself in his daze that it wasn’t for nothing. Allura should’ve gotten away. He had had the entire camp on his tail. She must be long gone._ _

__A wave of peace washed over him at that little bit of sentiment._ _

__He saved someone. Would it make up for the multitude of murders he’s committed himself? No. But it was something. His last piece of himself that proved that he wasn’t all gone. He still had that one achievement that he was proud of, even if countless shiny medals were pressing into his chest underneath his military vest._ _

__It was not long before he was dumped in the heart of the city, tied up against a large stone column that was probably a city hall or school. While he had made a slight peace with himself, there was a large part of him that just could not get with the idea that he was going to die that day. Takashi Shirogane, barely being a few years into being able to drink, was going to die._ _

__Shiro considered one of the hardest things being that he was not going to be able to see his sister and his parents again. He wasn’t going to be able say goodbye. He was going to die here, dirty and alone. For the first time in years, a few tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes and made their way down his cheeks, clearing a few centimeters of skin from the grime and dust that had build up. He was alone, so he cried more, letting his sobs tear out of him as he mourned the life he was never going to have even if he ever did leave the military. He would not have kids, a spouse, a house, a retirement. All he had known was blood and war and it was going to be the last thing he saw._ _

__He whispered to the silence. “I’m sorry.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment thoughts, what you liked about it etctec, I love the feedback!! -brain


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